


Life Preserver

by BookishTea



Series: Molliarty [8]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Awkward Conversations, Beaches, Break Up, F/M, Internal Conflict, Swearing, molliarty - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-28 21:57:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13912989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookishTea/pseuds/BookishTea
Summary: "Missing you comes in waves and tonight I am drowning."





	1. We're Sinking

**Author's Note:**

> Cover by [whyimmathere](http://whyimmathere.tumblr.com/). <3

                                                       

 

Have you ever been so upset, that it stole your breath away? What sound you could have made was gone, like screaming into howling wind - pointless. That's how Molly felt, brows knitted together as she took her cell from her coat pocket, checking it for what seemed the hundredth time that day. And just like all those other times, it was still the same message.

**Molly**

| Hey... can we talk?  _4:45 pm_

There had been fifteen pain-staking minutes until he responded, words having a pit settle in the bottom of her belly.

**Jim**

| Sure. Is everything OK? _5:00 pm_

**Molly**

| Yes, can you just meet me at the pier? Where we had those chips that the seagulls stole?  _5:03 pm_

**Jim**

| How could I forget? Lol. See you soon, Molls. _5:04 pm_

She bit her bottom lip, reading those three words again and again. See you soon, see you soon, see you soon, see you s- The cell was put back in her pocket. Sniffling she tugged a lock of hair behind her ear, staring through narrowed eyes at the dark waves below her crashing against one another. Burying her chin into her scarf, she shifted her weight from foot to foot. While waiting for Jim she was at crossroads, a part of her didn't know why she'd pick this place, and not somewhere more warm. But that's the thing, isn't it? All of her doubt and retracing her steps and doing the same mistakes over and over again, stuck in some hopeless cycle. She had thought things with Jim would be different, that _he_ was different. Now... well, she didn't know what to do anymore. Not after what Sherlock had said, told her like she was the blindest person in the world. And maybe silly Molly Hooper was blind to everything, to the social cues, to the contempt, the rejection.

Eyes closing against the spray of water, Molly exhaled. "What am I doing here?" She mumbled to herself, crossing her arms over her chest as her body broke out into a fit of shivers.

"I was thinking the very same thing."

Eyes opening she continued to stare out into the distance, not wanting to turn around even with the concerned, "Molls?" She flinched when she felt a hand on her shoulder, warmth soaking through her jacket. Trembling she let him spin her around, two hands holding onto her shoulders as he peered into her face.

"Molly, is everything all right?" His nose was red from the cold; absently Molly wished she hadn't used up the last of her tissues. Her heart squeezed, thinking back to what Sherlock had said, the phone number he had shown her. Maybe she should be angry right now, furious and yelling until her voice went hoarse. And yes she was, but now she felt more... _empty._

One of his hands lifted from her shoulder and to her face, cradling her head as his thumb brushed against her cheekbone. And for an awful moment her eyelashes fluttered, leaning into the affectionate contact. How starved she was, breathing becoming shaky. "Molly?" He whispered, voice swept up on the breeze. "Are you OK?"

"No," she mumbled finally "I'm not." Her eyes opened, hand holding the one on her jaw, before she brought it down. Jim frowned. The atmosphere between them matched the sky above, stormy and grey.

"Did.." The words died on his lips, watching as Molly took a step back and looked to the side, eyes unable to hold his. "Did someone hurt you?" As soon as he said it, he had his answer. Molly crossed her arms, blinking apparent. 

"Jim, I like you. I really do, but..."

"But...?" She could feel his disbelieving eyes on her, hurt palpable. 

Sucking in a deep breath, she lifted her gaze to him. "I think we should see other people, we aren't right for each other."

"If you like me, then why are we breaking up, Molls?"

"Don't." She sniffed, shaking from the cold and the conversation. "We both know that I don't have the things you..."

"What things?" He took a step forward, invading her personal space until she was pressing into the wooden fence. 

"I know," he came to a halt in front of her "Sherlock told me _everything_."

"Sherlock" Jim drew out, like the name was some expensive and delicious wine. "He doesn't know anything."

"T-that's, that's not true! H-he.." She dropped her arms, glaring up at him. "He told me how you gave him your number, like it was nothing. And maybe it was nothing because you're gay, b-but it was still wrong. You were still seeing me and.." 

"You're breaking up with me, because Sherlock Holmes told you I was gay?"

She didn't like the way he said it, arguing with "That's reason enough, I'm not someone who's fine with my... person I'd been seeing running off with someone else. I'm not a..." She breathed in, "I'm not a doormat for people to walk over."

"Molls."

"I'm not."

"Christ." He brushed his hair back, "I know that, Molly. I never meant to hurt you like that, never you but..." He broke off, watching as she shook her head. "I'm sorry," he reached out to touch her, but his fingers felt only air. Molly sliding to the side as she gave Jim one last look, it startled him, that emotion there. He expected when they broke up, which was inevitable, a lot of yelling and ugly crying. Pleading to get back together, but those moments never arrived. There was a silent hurt, a disappointment that had Jim's skin breaking out into goosebumps. He wasn't sure if he was faking it anymore, those soft brown eyes burrowing into him.

He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but it was too late. Already she was walking down the wooden pier, the back of her hunched. Jim stuck his numb hands into his pockets, waiting for her to spare him a glance over her shoulder, but she never did.

 

Passing couples and families, Molly headed to the main road so she could hail a taxi. As she walked onto the sidewalk, she couldn't help but think of Jim again and what he was feeling right now. Sighing she took her cell out of her pocket, sending him one final message before she could think better of it.

**Molly**

| I'm sorry if I hurt you, but I still hope we can be friends. _5:26 pm_

He would never respond to her after that, which she thought was over shame until the truth had been revealed. 

* * *

 

Sebastian looked into the rear view mirror, raising a brow when his boss slid into the backseat, closing the door hard. "How did it go?"

Jim huffed, glaring out of his window as he rubbed his hands together for warmth. "She broke up with me."

Sebastian blinked dumbly in surprise, staring at his boss' reflection. "Molly Hooper, broke up with _you?_   I thought you were supposed to be her ideal boyfriend?"

"I was, before Sherlock bloody Holmes stuck that nose of his into it."

"Isn't that what you wanted, sir?"

 The corner of Jim's lip pulled back with a snarl, "Just start the fucking car."

* * *

 

Plopping down on her couch, Molly drew her grandmother's quilt over her knees. Toby was laying next to her, purring loudly. He seemed to notice the pain in his owner, rubbing his tiny head against her side in a comforting action. Armed with the remote and the a tub of chocolate ice cream, Molly pressed play. The television show was one she had seen a countless amount, but never seemed to tire of.

Colin Firth's Mr. Darcy stepped up to Elizabeth, forcing his next words out. "In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire.. and love you." Sniffling as she spooned another dollop of chocolate into her mouth, she recited the lines along with him. "In declaring myself thus, I am fully aware that I will be going expressly against the wishes of my family, friends, and I hardly need add my better judgement."

"Oh, Darcy." Molly broke off, "You had started off so well." Sighing she put other spoonful in her mouth, swallowing nosily. Why couldn't she have her own Mr. Darcy to herself? Brooding and noble. 

Sherlock had the brooding down, and he tried to be noble. Truly he did, but could anyone really fault him for his lack of manners? And Jim... even if he didn't brood, or dive into lakes with white buttoned up shirts on, she had thought that goofy Jim from IT was nice enough. He wasn't poetic like Darcy, or brilliant like Sherlock, but he was real. He'd do all of those simple things, fetch her coffee, ask her about her day, and give snogs in between episodes of Glee. Toby even liked him! And yet... he had ruined everything.

Of course he'd turn out to be gay and desperate to get into Sherlock's pants. What else was new? But maybe... maybe he hadn't come out yet, was struggling with his identity and instead of being there for him, Molly had just left him alone. She knew all too well what it felt like being alone, and she had done it to him.

She dropped her spoon into the tub, pressing her hands into her eyes. From the telly she could hear Elizabeth rejecting Mr. Darcy, breaking not only the fictional couples hearts, but Molly's as well. "I'm such an ass." She mumbled, lifting her hands. The tub was put on the coffee table, show paused, and the quilt thrown back as Molly padded from the living room and into the kitchen.

Grabbing her cell from where she left it on the counter, she scrolled through her contacts before she found the name she was looking for, hitting call. Crossing her arms as she waited, Molly stared out the window and into the raining city, chewing her bottom lip as the line rang. It rang five times before it was hung up, signalling someone had declined it. Cursing Molly dropped her gaze to her cell, staring at the screen.

 

Jim stared at Molly, watching the feed from one of the hidden cameras in the pathologist's flat. His fingers drummed on his desk, watching as she sighed before turning her phone off. Leaving the kitchen and heading to the bathroom, where the door closed. He hadn't put one there, it wasn't really something that interested him, watching Molly shave her legs and redo her makeup a dozen times - trying to figure out what made her look better, but not as if she was trying too hard.

But that was the thing with Molly, she was always trying too hard. Trying to fit in, to get Sherlock and everyone to like her. That mousy Molly wasn't as weird as people initially think, even with the fascination with death, the horrid jumpers and talking to her cat. Jim didn't think it was strange... that is the death and cat talking. He had plenty of conversations with Toby, and would continue to do so even when Jim from IT was gone, and Jim Moriarty emerged. Things like what new toy would you like? Or vomit in the shoes of the next bloke that comes to Molly's flat, asking for another piece of that pie of her's. 

He had never been one for someone else eating his leftovers. 

 


	2. We're Floating

It seemed forever until she heard of Jim again, well it wasn't actually Jim.. never was, just this _person_ that went around with his face. She had heard about everything from Greg Lestrade, the inspector was nothing but kind as he took her to the side with Sally, and gave her a summary of what the person she'd known as Jim from IT had been doing after their breakup. Sitting blankly down on a chair, she didn't know what bothered her most. The truth or the still present sting that man brought.

Even when everything had been a lie, she still felt... She still _felt._ The realization made her feel dirty, unable to meet anyone's eyes. Not even Sherlock when he showed up for some body parts the next day, only John seemed to give her a look of concern. A task that wasn't very hard for him, John naturally looked after people.

The ride home was long and filled with silence, and the time she spent home was even worse. They hadn't thought Jim would hold any special interest in her, not even to clean up a loose end. A police officer didn't watch over her, which she was partially thankful for. Still it would be nice that someone cared for her, someone that was human and not her overprotective cat. He was always good company, curled up on her lap purring as she watched some crappy telly. She didn't really watch it, more of a background noise that filled the silence. 

Body heat from her cat warming her, Molly was lulled to sleep. 

* * *

 

Molly leaned forward, covering her snorting giggles as Jim choked on his pint across from her. She wasn't much into the bar scene, but she was really enjoying herself. Shaking her head she grabbed some napkins from the table, offering them to Jim with ketchup sticky hands. "A-are you okay?"

"Y-yeah" he said around a large cough "A bit embarrassed but good."

Molly dropped her hand, beaming as Jim took the napkins to pat at the wet spot on his shirt. "You have nothing to be embarrassed about. Remember fifteen minutes ago, when I tripped on the sidewalk?"

"Oh," Jim started to laugh again "How could I forget?"

"Careful." She said, trying to sound threatening but failing. "I was trying to make you feel better."

Tossing the crumpled napkins onto the table, Jim held his hands up defensively, grinning crookedly. "Sorry, Ms. Hooper."

Molly snorted, reaching for another chip and dipping it into her ketchup. "That's Dr. Hooper to you."

Jim hummed, leaning forward on his bent elbow with his head on his palm, he watched with a fond expression. "Yes, doctor."

Glancing up she caught a glimpse of the look he was giving her, nervously smiling when he caught her eye and darkly blushed. Timidly averting his gaze, and running a hand through his hair. Molly had to admit, he was a little plain around the edges, but he made up for it by being funny and cute. He reminded her of a puppy, so excited to share love and to receive it. Throwing him a bone she smiled, popping another chip into her mouth. "After this do you want to go see the pier? It looks beautiful this time of day."

"The pier?" He mulled it over before he smiled brightly. "I'd love to go. But..."

"But...?" Molly frowned, wondering if she said something wrong. Her nerves were quickly put to rest when Jim gave her a goofy smile.

"What about the chips? Should we bag them up for later?"

"We could take them with us, if you don't mind?" Absently she reached for her drink, a simple cool beer.

"Not at all." Jim pushed his chair back, "I could use a walk outside, it's getting hot in here." Peering up from her glass rim, Molly shyly smiled as Jim gave her a wink.

* * *

 

"Really, I'm fine."

"You know you keep saying that, and it still doesn't make me believe you."

Molly rolled her eyes, spreading strawberry jam on her toast. "And you don't have to, but I'm telling you the truth."

"Right..."

"Meena" Molly sighed, putting the knife in the empty sink. "I don't know why you're making this into a big deal."

"You don't know..?" Meena gave a scoff on the other end, "Your ex boyfriend turned out to be some psycho and you think I'm being unreasonable...?"

Molly exhaled into her phone, pouting. "He.. he wasn't my ex anything. We only went out for a couple dates, it definitely wasn't enough to consider him my _boyfriend_."

"Oh, he was something. You don't do the three-date rule for anyone."

"Meena!" Suddenly feeling like the room was hot, she left her breakfast on the counter and checked on the thermostat. Like that was the cause for the heat, and not because she was blushing. Of course the flat temperature read the same. "We agreed not to talk about.. that."

"Hey, I didn't say anything about you banging some James Bond villain."

"James Bond.." Shaking her head, Molly stared up at her ceiling. "Why do I put up with you?"

"Because you love me. Now, relax." At her own apartment, Meena leaned forward on her toilet bowl seat, painting her toenails and testing her flexiblity. Cell pinned to her shoulder by her head, she cursed as she accidentally brushed some red nail polish on the side of her toe. Grabbing a q-tip to wipe at it, she said "Before you know it this will all go away, and you'll be saying Jim who?"

"I hope you're right. I really do."

* * *

 

It came to a bit of a surprise but Meena's prediction was correct, ever so slowly Jim from IT seemed to slip from the forefront of her mind and into some dusty corner. Days turned into weeks, then months, and finally years. At that point the past seemed to be some fever dream she had, and she was more than happy with life's current blandness. Or that's what she told herself. She was content, the lonely nights with only her cat, the failed dates and the poor copy of Sherlock for a fiance. Even that had been okay, though that still ended up with her being stupidly.. predictably alone.

Tonight was looking like it would be like the rest, just her and Toby. And usually that was okay, but after the rough shift she had that wouldn't cut it. No interesting corpses, and her superior was being a real ass. Sucking in a deep breath she looked around her flat, feeling the walls were closer, suffocating her. Taking a light jacket from the front closet, she zipped it up and wrapped a knitted scarf around her neck. Calling over her shoulder to let Toby know she would be back, Molly slipped into her shoes and opened the door, stepping out into the rainy spring afternoon. 

 

She didn't have any set destination, letting her mind wander as she walked. Occasionally she moved around puddles, well, attempted to. Mostly she forgot to and step into it, foot becoming soaked. Cursing Molly paused, shaking her shoe in exasperation, but knowing it wouldn't help in the slightest. Uncaring of her plight, people speed past her, trying to stay out of the rain. "Just my luck" she mumbled under her breath, wishing she had some heater she could put her sock and foot to dry in. Shivering she was at a bit of a loss, looking around her surroundings in confusion. 

If this were some rom-com, this would be the moment where some bloke would show up and come to her aid. But this was reality, and Molly didn't like to think she was some damsel. Grumbling she stomped onward, ignoring that her foot was cold and made this awful squelching sound. 

By the time she stopped to rest, she had arrived at the beach. She sat down on a wet bench, forgetting the spot it would leave on her trousers until it was too late, but by that point she really couldn't care less. Looking down upon the shore, she watched people walk down the stretch of sand. A mother and her child caught her interest, mother hunched over with an umbrella as she watched her young son make a sandcastle. His jeans and the pail he was carrying was covered in sand, but he didn't seem to notice. Molly smiled at the image, remembering when her father would take her out early in the morning to fish. 

He'd stop by a shop and grab a thing of biscuits and bring along a thermos filled with hot chocolate. Sitting on the dewy grass, they'd share a cup of the steamy cocoa, hot breath coming out in plumes before them as they waited for the fish to bite. These were moments in Molly's childhood she cherished dearly, that weren't tainted by sickness. She smiled softly, heart aching. 

"Sweet isn't it?" She froze, shivering at the voice. No, it wasn't just any... it was _that_ voice. Movement in the corner of her eye, she stared straight ahead as someone sat beside her, throwing an arm behind as they leaned backwards. She mouthed his name, trying to release the sound into the chilled air. "Jim."

Gradually she twisted to the side to get a better look at him, like the movement would have him disappearing in a puff of smoke. He had a pair of sunglasses on, so she couldn't see the emotions in his eyes, she had to rely on the self satisfied smile on his face. She cleared her throat, eyes roaming up and down his form in desperation, trying to catch all of the changes.

This version was definitely better dressed than what she was used to, hair slicked back and wearing a sleek black leather jacket over a pale blue buttoned up shirt. Drifting downwards, her eyes couldn't help but linger on his tight trousers. "Enjoying the sights?" Her eyes shot up, embarrassed she inhaled, not ready when his face was facing her's, surely he was staring at her. Blinking she looked back to the sea, inadvertently breathing in his scent. An alluring concoction of gunpowder, apples, and a hint of pepper. Most certainly not like what he wore on their first date, a cologne from a drugstore that he sprayed too much of. Just a hint of this one, it made Molly want to keep smelling it. Shaking her head, she tried to get back on track.

"Y-you're..." she started, nose scrunching. 

"Evil?" Jim offered, smirking. "Thank you."

"No-er, yes. But you're a... a wanted man, what are you doing _here_. Shouldn't you be in hiding and not here with... are you going to kill me?"

"I hadn't planned on it. Why? Would you like me to?"

Molly choked around the word, "N-no!" Shifting anxiously in her seat, unwittingly causing her shoe to make that atrocious sound again. Immediately Jim looked down, lifting his glasses to rest it on his head as he peered at it. It was a shock to finally see his eyes, they were as beautiful and big as she remembered. When she first knew him, she had loved his eyes and despite the time that had passed, still she found this true.

"Walked in a puddle, love?" She nodded, but then realized he couldn't see her response.

"Y-yes." She flinched at how shaky her voice was, how it showed her terror so plainly. 

"You must be freezing."

"Um.." Before she could figure out what to say, he was startling her by suddenly bending down, lifting her foot up. Blinking as she was promptly off balance, she placed her hand on his shoulder. He took her shoe and sock off with ease, leaving them on the ground. Both of his hands wrapped around her foot, warmth having her shuddering. He moved her body by her leg, twisting her position on the bench so it was resting on his leg, rubbing the pins and needles away.

Feeling as if she was in some dream, helplessly she looked around, shivering when he started to breathe on her cold flesh. One of the most wanted men of the world was touching her toes... 

"Why" she mumbled under her breath, "why are you doing this?"

Jim looked up, raising a brow. "You don't want me to?"

"I don't mind, but..." she wet her lips. _You're a murderer, you blew people up._ And God, if he really wanted to, he could break her little toes.  "What are you trying to get at? It's not like I would willingly help you hurt Sherlock."

"Molls, I don't _want_ you to hurt Sherlock." Her stomach dipped at the old nickname. "I'm not here for you to be another pawn, not like last time. And honestly, love, would you even be inclined to be one?"

"No." She reluctantly admitted.

"Exactly." He left one of his hands covering her foot, the other moved so he could place his elbow on the back of the bench, resting his head on his palm. "It wouldn't be exciting, so what's the point?"

Molly exasperatedly sighed, "That's what I'm trying to get at. What are you trying to do?"

"I'm obviously flirting." Jim rolled his eyes when Molly began to squawk in disbelief. Pretending that her brain wasn't short circuiting, he continued on. "Given our own limitations, I'm prone to causing mayhem whenever I get bored and kill on a dime, and your questionable fashion sense - really Molls, we need to shop together. I think we suit one another."

"Suit each other?!" Molly's gaze darted around them, not wanting someone to eavesdrop on their incriminating conversation. Thankfully people seemed to be ignoring them, like the pair existed in their own small world. "Even if I forgot the whole..." She chewed on her bottom lip "your business practices. We don't have much in common."

Jim snorted, lifting his head and showed his hand to Molly, counting with his fingers. "We both love cats, are obsessed with Glee - and yes I wasn't lying about that part. Have a connection with death and corpses, which you can't deny." Molly closed her mouth. "Enjoy theatre, we're both bookworms, and have soul-crushing insecurities of being forgotten. The two of us are terribly lonely. That's all off of the top of my head, Molls. Should I go on or are you satisfied?"

She shook her head.

"But...?"

"Well, you're not here to convince me that you're actually good, are you?" 

Jim threw his head back in laughter, a high pitched sound that eventually calmed into a fit of barely contained giggles. " _God no!_  I'm proud playing the villain, there's so much _fun_ to it."

"And you still want me to.."

"Date me." He hummed in confirmation. "Yes. Let's be real here, Molls. We're both secondary characters when it comes to the world of Sherlock Holmes, well.. I'm more of a foil character, but my point still stands. I want to do all of those cavity inducing domestic things I hear about with you. And when I say you, love. I mean _you_. Not something else than your puddle walking self."

She took this all in, fiddling with the zipper on her jacket as she thought it over. When she finally came to a decision she peered upwards, heart hammering in her ears as she asked, "Whatever I say won't make you less 'evil', right?"

"Yes." Jim hissed, leaning forward. Grip tightening on her toes. 

She winced, but pressed on through. "Would you like to go for a cup of coffee?"

Jim smiled. "I'd be delighted, I know the perfect cafe. But first, we should get you a pair of shoes."

 


End file.
